Is there anything better than linen? I mean, really.
Alright, maybe wool, but linen is a very close second.
A warm sun + light breeze + drapey linen pants. Hot damn.
I had some momentary reservations about the “topography” of the back view on these babies and I searched the internet for crotch length adjustments and wedgies. This got me thinking about unibutts vs. distinct buttocks. Funny that I feel oppositely about unibrows and uniboobs.
The final verdict though: a full work day in these pants kept me cool and comfy and swishy and all full up of linen-y happiness.
- Pattern: Burda 6906
- Fabric: Linen and viscose blend
- Size: 12 (38)
- Notes: Lengthened by at least a couple inches: got a nice 4 inch hem.
- Also pictured: self-drafted white racer-back tank. Eternal question: how does anyone keep bright white looking bright white anyhow?
Because this is how I want to enter every room.
Inspired by the Rock’s Wrestlemania 32 t-shirt (now available for sale, I believe), I bought myself a piece of linocut and carved a decent looking brahma bull. I hacked off a piece of cardboard from an old binder, duct taped the edges, super glued a handle to the back and rubber cemented the linocut to the front. We’re talking real, down and dirty crafting here.
(I’d just recently had to throw out a bunch of handspun yarn so I was desperate for some instant gratification and couldn’t be bothered to work slowly and carefully. And nothing’s more instantly gratifying than carving your own block print, n’est-ce pas?!)
The speedball block printing ink that had been sitting in my drawer for a while had separated into a black layer and an oily layer. I mixed it as best I could. The test prints I made were pretty solid and nice looking, but they crocked (def. 2) like a jabroni. I wonder what went wrong?
I used a black screenprinting ink instead. It was harder to make a solid, dark print with it, but I kinda liked the marbled, rough effect it gave. Tougher looking, I think. More… electrifying?
Socks are the best kind of relief for knitter’s block.
I often find myself stuck with several WIPs that have reached some sort of temporary impasse. This is usually because I just can’t quite summon the energy to try on my project and make a determination on hem length, sleeve length or body length. Sometimes I just can’t decide which colour button or zipper to use. Other times, to my horror, I discover that absolutely every aspect of my project has been poorly planned and executed, beginning with, of course, the decision to pick that particular pattern!
So when hard times befall me, I do what any reasonable knitter/human should: I cast on a pair of socks.
This red tweedy pair was my first time knitting from the toe up. I really liked the way the gusset is formed: you lose a little heel space but there’s no need to pick up stitches around a flap. And who likes to pick up stitches, amirite?
I tried a “basic” bind off, a tubular bind off and a Russian bind off before settling on a sewn bind off. The first three were either too messy (tubular) or too tight. The sewn bind off seemed to be a good compromise in stretch and solidity.
- Pattern: Variations on a 64 stitch standard sock. Cuff-down: with slip-stich heel flap. Toe-up: with simple gusset heel.
- Yarn: Red pair = Stroll tweed in barn door heather. Colour blocked pair = various scraps leftover from other projects. White and pink pair= the white is some sort of stretchy cotton, had a German label on it perhaps? Soft and easy to work with. No idea if it will wear well or get saggy quickly?
- Needles: size 0/2mm
“Plant one row for yourself, and one for the universe” I’ve read. This is because there will always be some loss from either insect, animal, disease or bad luck. We should accept it, even expect it.
I try to keep this in mind. For the most part, I have a monk-like sensibility about these things. I feel for all creatures of the universe. I try my best to be kind, fair, flexible and empathetic.
But my empathy only extends so far. I mean, how much can you really care for a creature when its offspring devour your flowers and cover themselves in their own excrement?
Poopy little jelly blobs. Voracious little booger babies.
So the springtime battle begins. I picked off and squished about a dozen of these red lily beetles, two of whom were in the process of making more lily beetles (if you get my drift). I found three egg deposit sites and wiped those clean. For a few minutes, I played God in their beetle world: so much death in so little time. I’ll admit, only a tiny part of me felt bad.
I’ll get you, you hungry little scoundrels!